


I'd Have Known You Anywhere

by Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium/pseuds/Ben_Solo_Good_Boy_Sweater_Emporium
Summary: “I’ve just realized something. When I imagined this, I always did think you would recognize me instantly, without me even introducing myself. You’d look at me, and I’d smile, and you’d say, ‘Chuck.’ Not a question, a statement. Like you knew I’d turn up eventually and you were just waiting for me.”“I think I was,” he admitted.
Relationships: Charlotte "Chuck" Charles/Ned
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	I'd Have Known You Anywhere

“Do you ever wonder how things might have been different, if we’d met before?” Chuck asked one winter evening.

The Piemaker paused in the preparation of his crust to consider the question. He did not need to ask what she meant by _before_. It seemed an altogether dangerous area of inquiry.

“Do you?” he evaded.

“Sometimes. Not in an unhealthy, obsessive, road-not-taken sort of way. Just imaginings.”

The Piemaker saw the color rise in her cheeks, until they mirrored her bright sweater and the colander of apples, newly washed. Not for the first time, he felt dazzled by her loveliness.

“What sort of imaginings?” he prompted, at the same time both wishing and not wishing to know.

Chuck reached for the first apple and began to affect its dismemberment. The Piemaker noted with pride her adeptness at such tasks.

“Well, for example, you might have come back to Couer d’Couers. That’s not so far-fetched. Maybe you’d have been walking through the old neighborhood, indulging in youthful reminiscences, when you’d be stopped in your tracks by the sight of a stunning young woman in a bee suit, in the very yard of your childhood sweetheart. Could it possibly be the same girl, now grown into this ravishing and socially-conscious entrepreneur, selling honey to benefit the homeless? Naturally you’d feel compelled to find out.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Chuck paused, mid-slice. “What do you mean? You wouldn’t want to know?”

“No, I mean I disagree with the fundamental premise. I wouldn’t wonder at all; I’d know it was you the second I saw you.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I suppose since you knew I had lived there, it wouldn’t be a huge leap to make.”

“Wouldn’t matter.”

“What wouldn’t?”

“Where I saw you. I’m convinced I’d have known you anywhere.”

Chuck smiled gently. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

The Piemaker continued rolling his dough in silence for a moment, before responding quietly, “When I first heard the news report about you, I stopped breathing. Before they released your name. And I couldn’t stop watching the television, which I never do. When Emerson told me it was you on that boat, I had the strangest feeling of non-surprise, like I already knew.”

“You never told me that.”

The Piemaker gave her the slow, brilliant smile he reserved only for her. “There was a lot of other stuff going on at the time.”

“True.” She returned his smile with interest.

Having vivisected the apples, Chuck turned her attentions to a nearby tureen of pears. “Alright, we’ll set that scenario aside as improbable, due to your highly developed intuition…”

“Only where you’re concerned.”

“…and instead I will tell you a thrilling tale of a young girl coming into the big city for the first time. The particulars of why she is there are unimportant. Suffice to say that she finds herself with time to kill before her bus home to Couer d’Couers and is drawn to the most remarkable looking and smelling pie shop you ever saw.”

“Do tell.” The Piemaker was charmed by her enthusiasm.

“Indeed. She comes in for a piece of pie. Her order is taken by a petite but feisty blond waitress and the next thing she knows, a strangely familiar dog comes over to say hello. The girl asks, ‘What’s your name?’ The waitress tells her that the dog’s name is Digby.”

Digby lifted his head, as if to acknowledge his inclusion in the narrative.

“But how strange, the girl thinks. That’s not a very common name for a dog. And he looks so similar to another Digby she once knew.”

“How does the girl account for this?” the Piemaker asked, thoroughly delighted by everything about Chuck.

“She wonders if perhaps a boy she used to know—with a penchant for naming dogs Digby—is nearby. She asks the waitress, who owns this dog? Why, the owner of the sublime pie shop! She looks toward the kitchen and sees a handsome young man, of the right age, making wonderful looking pies. And without thinking or planning, she gets up from her booth and walks straight into that kitchen. And then…” Chuck stopped suddenly.

“And then…what?” the Piemaker laughed.

“I’ve just realized something. When I imagined this, I always _did_ think you would recognize me instantly, without me even introducing myself. You’d look at me, and I’d smile, and you’d say, ‘Chuck.’ Not a question, a statement. Like you knew I’d turn up eventually and you were just waiting for me.”

“I think I was,” he admitted.

Chuck looked at the Piemaker for a long time, her expression soft and her heart full. She reached for the emerald green oven mitts on the countertop and put them on. Then she walked around the island where the Piemaker stood and gently took his face in her safely mitted hands.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Man, did I love "Pushing Daisies." This is the second of three stories that I recently found, written out long-hand on a legal pad. :-) I hope you enjoyed reading it.


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